Charenji
by Lord Cellytron
Summary: A narrative from the PoV of LaVerne Esposito. Her betrayal of her husband Klinger was heartless... but did she have a reason for it? Rated R for language and sexual relations. Uploaded 6-6.


So... Why'd I do it?  
  
Why'd I do it?  
  
Why wasn't I one of those girls who holds out, huh? Who writes him a letter instead of sleeping with the milkman? Who knits and... and crochets and goes to bed every night in an empty bed and doesn't barely even mind? Why'd I have to run off?  
  
You know why?  
  
I'll tell you why.  
  
Because he lied.  
  
Oh, sure, you say. He lied. You think I don't know Maxie, but I know Maxie. When he says he's gonna do something, and it's really important, he does it. That's the difference between him and a lotta guys. Maxie knows what's important. He knows that I wanted to have a baby.  
  
We talked about it right before he left. We really did. I said to him, Maxie baby. If you don't come back I'm gonna find someone else. Papa'll just die if I don't carry on the family. I love ya and everything, baby, but you understand, right?  
  
He said he understood. And he got that look in his eyes that he always got when I talked about having a baby. He wanted to be a daddy, real bad. And it ain't like we didn't try... we sure did. You bet we did. We just ran out of time, that's all. Oh, sure he wanted a baby. He wanted 10 babies. Our house wasn't real big, sure, but sharing a room never hurt nobody. Besides, we'd be rich soon. Someday, anyway.  
  
When he left, he told me it'd be a month. A month. That's a laugh. He said he was gonna show up the first day of boot camp in a pink apron. I laughed my fool head off when he said that. Imagine, my Maxie in a pink apron. He'd sure show everyone. They weren't gonna take him away from me.  
  
Then he called me up. I answered the phone and he was cryin. I'd never heard him cry before, except for when we were kids. I asked him, baby, baby, what's the matter? What are you cryin' for? And he said, they're sendin' me to Korea. They didn't buy it. Half the guys showed up in drag.  
  
I couldn't believe it. I said, you're kiddin' me! How long for?  
  
He said he didn't know, didn't care. He was comin' home right now. Right now. He was hoppin' on the bus and he'd be home before Sunday. I laughed, cause he was crazy. I was just so happy, y'know? He was really comin' home. He wasn't gonna take no stuff from no army!  
  
Oh, sure, it sounds selfish... but you'd'a done the same thing. You really woulda. You don't know Maxie like I knew him. I'd'a gone to Korea WITH him if he'd asked. I'd'a done ANYTHING for him. But I didn't have to. He was comin' home.  
  
A day or so passed. He wasn't home.  
  
It was Sunday, and he wasn't home.  
  
Tuesday, the telephone rang. It was this fuzzy-sounding lady on the other end of the line, and she didn't speak real good. I mean, she didn't sound like she was from America or nothin. I found out after a few minutes that the reason she didn't sound American was because she was an operator from Korea. She puts through a call from some airport, and damned if it isn't Maxie.  
  
I started to cry the second I heard his voice. I really did. I started to yell, screaming Maxie, Maxie, baby. What's goin' on? Where the hell are ya?  
  
He was in Korea, of course. They were shippin' him to some MASH unit. I couldn't believe it. I just couldn't believe what he was saying. I kept on crying the whole time he was talkin, sayin' all kinds of crap about, oh, he'll be around doctors. He'll be able to convince THEM he's crazy. And they ain't regular army, they're draftees, too. They'll be on his side.  
  
Do I really need to tell you that they weren't?  
  
He had to hurry the hell up then, get off the phone and all. He was at a pay telephone and someone was yelling at him in Korean. The last thing he yelled to me was that he'd be home before I knew it. I cried into the phone for an hour after he hung up. No one was trying to get through.  
  
He wasn't home before I knew it.  
  
Oh, he tried. He tried so hard. Every week he sent me a letter, talkin' about how hard he tried, the ridiculous costumes he wore. I guess he was hopin' I'd laugh at them. Laugh at the fact that he's gonna be there another week. Sure, he wasn't on the front lines or nothin', but being over there at all, I was scared shitless for him.  
  
I heard on the radio all the time, talking about how close "we" were and how "they" were backing off and how "our" boys would be home... you guessed it. Before we knew it.  
  
I went to the picture show. Once. The newsreel made me want to spit. I mean, it really did. The bull they feed us. The bull that probably half the dummies in the theater believed. Just like I used to.  
  
I grew up with brothers, lots of 'em. My papa'd been in the war, the first one. They sent 3 of my brothers to the second one. Sure, they all came back, but did we think we were lucky? Did I ever sit down and look up at the sky and, y'know, breathe a Hallelujah or anything? Not once. It wasn't even that my brothers and I weren't close. We weren't, and I barely noticed that they were gone when they were gone, but it was kinda like we felt that we... y'know, DESERVED something.  
  
I was young. Hell, I was young AND dumb. Beat that. To me, war was kinda like one big party. They wrote songs about it, they made pictures about it, and maybe we didn't have tin lunchboxes anymore, but that didn't much matter to me. Those boys were in England and France and all kinds of places I'd never been to, and they were having the time of their lives. Marching in parades, holding big U.S. flags up, every so often shooting someone, but no one ever died. Of course not.  
  
My brothers came back and I wore a red sweater. Maxie came with, actually. He used to be fascinated by war. You bet he did. Oh, we were about fifteen or sixteen, maybe. He was skinny then, just like now, but more so. Angular, I guess you'd say. Pointy, I said. He clapped all three of them on the back and gave them congratulations and they barely looked at him. I figured they were tired.  
  
We stayed up all night long. They called the cops on us twice, but they couldn't find nothin' to arrest a bunch of soldiers and a few girls about, so they left.  
  
Maxie was restless, tryin' to wrestle everybody. He jumped on me a few times, but he didn't do nothin' more since he knew I could knock him out. Then he went over to my brother Pudgy. His real name's Leonardo, but he don't answer to that any more than he answers to Pudgy. He wasn't a real friendly fellow.  
  
Aw, Maxie was dumb. I didn't even try and make excuses for him back then, I just said, Maxie, you dummy. He deserved what he got, anyway.  
  
What happened was that he kinda slugged Pudgy on the back, and did Pudgy get sore. Oh boy. He turned around and yelled Hey what the hell do you think you're doin. Maxie got all manly then, like he did, and he said, hey come on Pudgy. Let's have a go at it.  
  
Pudgy looked like he was ready to explode. Boy, he sure did. He started swearing at Maxie, in Italian and everything, calling him every name in the book. I sure didn't know what he was on about, so I told them both to knock it off, I had a headache, anyway.  
  
Maxie was pretty drunk, and he kinda laughed and said Boy, Pudgy. Is that how you fought in the war, too?  
  
Maxie needed 20 stitches on his nose alone.  
  
Oh boy, you've never seen such a display. You really haven't. They're on the ground, screaming and fighting, they knock over the table, my little niece Betty (she was my sister Gena's kid) is crying and trying to climb the curtains, and through it all, all I could do was stare.  
  
Because Pudgy was only hitting with one arm. The left one. The right one, the one he usually used because it left such a good mark... well that one wasn't doin' anything. Just hanging there, kinda. It got in his way, just kinda flopping around wherever it felt like.  
  
That was my only experience with war. Y'know, before. Sure, it turned out Pudgy lost about 88 of the control in his right arm. All he really had it for now was balance. And the whole time they were fighting, Pudgy kept on screaming, I'd like to see them send you over there. I'd like to see how you'd do. You'd come home in a hundred pieces.  
  
I thought I shoulda cried or somethin. I mean, this was my own brother. If I needed some kinda example, y'know, of how bad war was, that shoulda been enough.  
  
It wasn't. It wasn't enough.  
  
It wasn't until Maxie was gone that it started to make sense.  
  
Cause, see, Maxie was my future.  
  
Everything I had planned for me, shoot, right down to what color sheets I wanted to buy, it was all him.  
  
I guess that's kinda funny now, ain't it? But we had plans. Oh, we sure did. I told you about the baby. And that ain't even all. We were gonna be rich.  
  
Maxie, he had such a way of talkin, why you believed every damn word. He coulda been talkin about buying a castle built on top of a pyramid, and damned if I wouldn't believe it.  
  
First, he'd talk about how he'd work his job. Oh, he'd get a job. He never had one when he was home, at least no good ones. He'd come home every night, and I'd wait for him. I didn't have nothin' else to do. Hell, half the time he'd be gone all day and I'd find out he got fired, and spent the rest of the day standing outside the building, telling anyone who'd listen about what a real tyrant his boss was.  
  
He'd come in the door at about six or seven and he'd be so tired, and so sad. Boy, we had it rough, I thought.  
  
Rough.  
  
Rough, my ass. He'd come home and sit down at the table and I'd pour him somethin', just a little cheap somethin' I had under the cabinet. He'd drink it and he'd hand it to me, and I'd drink some too, because poor me. Livin' in a dirty duplex in Toledo with Maxie there every day to take care of me.  
  
After he had his drink, I'd get up, real slow and sluggish-like and kinda sigh, Well I guess I better make some supper now. An' by that time, he was kinda halfway in the bag, y'know, and his mood was a whole lot more cordial.  
  
He'd stand up and say, Baby, I got this under control. You sit down on the sofa here, put up your feet. I got this under control. I'll call out for Chinese. No, no, you don't want Chinese.  
  
I'd kinda laugh then, and I'd say, Sure I want Chinese.  
  
Oh, no you don't, he'd tell me. You'd never figure out the chopsticks.  
  
I'll use a fork, I'd say.  
  
No, no. He'd say. You can't eat Chinese with a fork. You'll be a laughing stock. Leave this up to me. Now, first things first. Which one's the stove, and which one's the icebox?  
  
Aw, Maxie. He'd always try and make me feel better, y'know? He didn't know from cooking, and I'd always step in before things got too bad. Usually I'd toast up some bread, since bread was cheap. And we got so we really liked catsup. So we'd eat some bread, maybe half a crummy loaf of bread with butter, and some eggs. We liked eggs. And we'd put catsup on the whole thing.  
  
So we'd be sitting there, and we'd eat and it'd be getting dark, so we had to hurry up and finish before it got too dark since the electric company shut us off and there were too many roaches in the dark. Oh, hey, it's not that I wasn't a good housekeeper. I was a real good sport about doin all those things, dustin' and sweepin' and all that. But you never seen such a crummy house in your whole life. The roaches lived in the wall, see, and you leave one crumb on the floor, boy, they'd come running. There had to be a thousand of them.  
  
So me and Maxie would finish up real soon while it was still light enough to see, and then we'd go sit on the porch and have a cigarette or two. Oh, I'd had my supper then and it wouldn't be settling too good, and I'd get to yelling at him like always.  
  
Here I am, I'm 23 years old and I ain't knocked up, I'd say. So what am I doin' in a shitty place like this? We ain't got no electricity, we ain't got no decent food or even a goddamn radio to listen to. I sit around here all day and do the washing and it don't do no good, everything's still dirty. Aw, Maxie, what'm I doin' here, hey? You don't do nothin. You didn't work today, I can tell because you don't smell like gasoline. I ain't got enough dough to buy even a magazine or a book or somethin, an' even if I could, I ain't got no lamp to read it by. I been on the same pair of stockings for a month now, and look at my skin. I'm all broke out because I gotta use your soap to wash. Hey, Maxie. Supposing I just got up one day, huh? Got up and just left, never looked back. Hey, I'm a dish, Maxie. You know I am.  
  
And Maxie'd look at me and he'd say You're beautiful.  
  
Now, Maxie, don't give me that now. If I'm so beautiful how come I'm stuck here with you? You never do nothin. When are you gonna get a job, huh? I'd say. I only said it because my stomach got to hurting after all those eggs. They were pretty old eggs and our icebox had gone to pot... oh, I didn't mean nothin by it, and Maxie knew it.  
  
Maxie'd kinda sigh and look away and say You're right, baby, I'm a bum. I didn't work today.  
  
Oh, that'd get me upset. I'd get to screaming and I'd throw a real tantrum. Oh, Maxie, baby, we're gonna get thrown out, don't you see? Oh, Maxie, I'm gonna have to get a job and think of what Mama's gonna say. She never had to work a day of her life Maxie, and my Papa had to work 16 hours a day to keep food on the table and with all of us kids we still ate better than you and me eat. Oh Maxie my Mama always said you were no good and I didn't believe it but I think Mama was right. We're gonna be on the street before you know it.  
  
Oh, I'd really get to screaming.  
  
Baby, Baby. LaVerne. Maxie'd say, The neighbors are gonna start looking. Come on, calm down. Listen, calm down. Calm down and lay back and I'm gonna tell you what we'll do.  
  
I'd pout and I'd be cryin by then, but I'd lean back on his lap and he'd put his hand on my head and he'd stroke my hair and he'd tell me the plan.  
  
LaVerne, one day I'm gonna have a job, he'd say. I'm gonna work real hard, LaVerne, and I ain't gonna screw it up. No sir, up at 6, to work, home for lunch, then back to work until 5. Every day. I'll get paid and I'll buy you what you want, baby. Any book or magazine, a radio, a record player, hell, I'll buy you a television set. While I'm at work you can sit at home and do the ironing with a real electric steam iron, and watch the television. Think of how nice that'll be.  
  
I'd kinda smile and think about having my very own television set.  
  
And then, baby, he'd say, one day when I've made about a thousand bucks, guess what I'm gonna do?  
  
I don't know, Maxie, I'd say.  
  
I'm gonna quit that job, and we're gonna move out to California. I'll have about a thousand bucks, LaVerne, plus a television set and all our furniture, and we're gonna live right on the beach.  
  
I'd never seen the real beach before, and I'd tell him so.  
  
Of course you haven't, he'd grin. I haven't either, but I hear it's really somethin. That's where we're gonna live. You and me. Every night we'll sit on the beach and every day we'll go swimming and you'll have one of those bikini swimsuits and we'll just sit there all day and all night and do nothin. And you know what's gonna happen then?  
  
What's gonna happen, Maxie? I'd ask. Oh, I was eatin' it up. I really was.  
  
You're gonna turn blonde, baby. You're gonna be tan and your hair's gonna be blonde. And me, I'm gonna look like Clark Gable. And one day we're gonna just be sittin on the beach and a big-time Hollywood director is gonna spot us and think we're movie stars. He'll get up close and see that it's just boring old you and me, and we'll invite him in for a drink and he'll suddenly start pointing at us and calling to his friend. And his friend'll come running over, and he's some big-shot Hollywood producer, and they'll whisper and point and shake hands and the producer will look at us and say Why she's no Marilyn Monroe and he's no Clark Gable but damned if they aren't just perfect for our next big picture. How'd you two like to be movie stars?  
  
I'd kinda squirm at the idea and I'd giggle and say Oh yeah, Maxie? Oh yeah?  
  
He'd say you bet, and I'd have stars in my eyes and the whole bit.  
  
And then we're gonna have a baby, aren't we, Maxie? I'd ask, and he'd sigh and grin.  
  
We're gonna have a hundred babies, he'd shout.  
  
Oh, I knew he was full of bunk. We'd get done with our smokes, go in the house and suddenly Hollywood and movies seemed a million miles away. He'd pick up the clock and hold it next to the window to see what time it read and then he'd sit down on the sofa and stare at the wall and the last thing in the world he looked like was a movie star.  
  
I'd ask him if I ought to ask Papa for a few bucks to get the electricity turned back on and he'd tell me no.  
  
He'd fall asleep on the couch and I'd have to wake him up and tell him to come to bed. Sometimes he did and sometimes he didn't.  
  
We tried to be good. You know what I mean. We tried not to do any funny business in the bed before we got married. Oh, sometimes it just kinda happened, y'know? Sometimes we'd be laying there in bed and it'd just sorta happen. But I never did get knocked up. Never once. Not even by accident.  
  
Sometimes I wish I had. One time I was almost positive I was. Maxie was already gone, but I thought about how happy it'd make him, even in Korea, to know that he'd have a kid. I was gonna write him a letter and the whole lot, but then the next day it was that time of the month, and I coulda cried. I almost wrote him and said I was knocked up anyway, but he mighta thought I meant by someone else.  
  
When he was home, I yelled at him and hollered at him, told him he was no good, told him I'd leave him tomorrow, just watch me. Told him when I was gone he'd have no one but himself to blame and he could rot, but I didn't mean any of it.  
  
When he was gone, I realized how much I didn't mean it. Oh, sure it was tough to get to the grocery store when he was home. We had this old beat-up Chrysler that belonged to one of Maxie's cousins who sold it to us cheap. It hardly ever ran and I didn't know how to drive it, so I'd have to practically beg him to get up and take me to the store. He'd grumble about it and we'd drive there and the whole thing would be shaking and sputtering. I'd wish I'd have taken the bus, but it got me there and home.  
  
Well, Maxie left, and wouldn't you know it, he left the car and never showed me how to work the damn thing. I kinda learned to drive it when he was gone by just sorta scooting down the street, but one day it ran out of gas, and Maxie never once showed me how to put gas in the goddamn thing, and there I stood, not a mile away from home, with a car that wouldn't run and no money and no idea how to put gas in it. Finally this fellow came along and kinda laughed at me but then walked with me to the filling station and he put the gas in the car and asked me why my husband wasn't here to help me, and I just had to laugh.  
  
Now, he was a real nice guy, but the thing about Toledo is that most fellows you meet aren't nice. Maxie and me grew up in a rough neighborhood and I could hold my own in a fight, but something seemed different when he was gone. I knew now that I could lock my doors and windows and keep a crowbar in the nightstand, but if someone decided to break in and I swung at them and missed, or they had a gun or something, there was no one to protect me, and that'd be it.  
  
I mean, supposing a crook got in and decided to take it all. Supposing he saw me in just my nightgown and decided to have some fun? I could yell and scream and holler but if the police got there too late or didn't come at all... oh, not to say that Maxie was any hero. I didn't put any faith in him bein' able to save me from a cockroach, much less a burglar, but even knowing that didn't help. I was a woman alone in a rough neighborhood and that made me a target.  
  
Oh, hell, even the little things got me down.  
  
One day I was at the drugstore, just shoppin' around, lookin' at the face powder and the lipsticks and all of a sudden I hear this voice behind me sayin' LaVerne Esposito, why, you old devil, is that you?  
  
I turned around and damned if it wasn't Frannie Walker, my best girlfriend from school. And boy, didn't she look pretty. She was half-colored, and she always had the prettiest face you've ever seen. Her mother was the white lady who worked at the tailor shop and Frannie always had brand new clothes for the first day of school and brand new dresses for all the dances and everything.  
  
Frannie wasn't like me, she had a brain. She knew me and Maxie were gonna get married and when I dropped out she kinda sighed and said she'd be a bridesmaid at my wedding anyhow. We kinda lost touch after that, and I never knew where she was when I coulda used someone to talk to, borrow money from, whatever. From the looks of her, she had some money.  
  
Frannie hugged me right there in the middle of the store, and right away I knew she was different. She didn't really touch me all that much, and our chests stayed about an inch apart. She had on this jacket, and slacks, and she'd just got her hair done and there I was, wearing a blue raincoat over an ugly brown dress with muddy shoes and my hair all over the place.  
  
Oh, right away she got to telling me about all the stuff she's been doing. Oh, she'd gone to college and she had a real high school diploma and now she was back in town for her brother's wedding, and oh, LaVerne DARLING, you look just lovely, and you must tell me how you've been doing, and how's Max?  
  
Well, then I got to tell her.  
  
Oh, I only told her the good stuff. You know, how we got married over the phone and how Maxie was in Korea wearing dresses and doing god only knows what with god only knows who and I was all alone and the only good thing was that Maxie sent me some money once in a while to pay the rent and now the electricity was back on and I had an extra three dollars that day for the first time in a year.  
  
And oh, didn't that just shock her. Frannie'd got married to some guy named Ken who owned some business in Cincinnati and she was really doing pretty good for herself and oh wasn't it just DREADFUL that I was here all alone and oh if only she'd have known sooner.  
  
Boy, that burned me. We grew up together, you know. She was a nerdy kid and I must have saved her ass a hundred times on the playground, and now here she was all grown up and calling me Darling and Sweetie and Honey like I was some idiot. Hey, I didn't ask for her to come back into town and find me like that.  
  
Oh, sure, then she decided to make some huge production out of taking me aside, real secret-like and handing me a ten-dollar bill and she told me to pay it back whenever I can and Oh if only I could stay but I'm meeting Rachel across town in half an hour and I just came to pick up some lipstick and oh Darling write me soon as you can won't you.  
  
I spent that ten dollars the same day. Bought a bottle of soda, a new pair of stockings, a roll of toilet paper, a paperback, 6 boxes of Jell-O, a pack of gum and a bouquet of flowers for the table. I walked to the bus stop with my three dollars left and a paper bag full of junk and I felt normal for the first time in a long time. I put a dime in a beggar's hat. His hat was newer than my dress.  
  
Boy, that burned me.  
  
And then Mama started calling me.  
  
I was just thinking about you, she'd say first. Thinking about my baby girl there all alone in that scummy house. I want you to come back home and do it today. Papa says so too and you could never say no to Papa.  
  
Oh, it was sure funny how well Mama knew me, wasn't it. No Mama, I'd have to say, are you crazy, I got things to do today. I gotta put out the wash so it can come back in the house covered in soot. I gotta walk down to someplace that sells necessities because it's that time of the month. I got things to do.  
  
And she'd get mad, of course. What's that, you're gonna say no to your Mama, she'd holler down into the phone. You're gonna say no to me, and here you are living in a barn!  
  
Mama, it ain't no barn, I'd say.  
  
It's as good as a barn, she'd scream. I go to bed every night and I cry and cry thinking about my baby living like an animal, with that good for nothing bum in China.  
  
Korea.  
  
Wherever, she'd yell. The point is he ain't at home with his family where he belongs and you're too damn good for him. Papa went to the war and I came back to live with Grandma. He sent me money every month and when he came back I'd made a down payment on the house and I was 5 years younger than you and I already had a house of my own. How much money you paying for rent now?  
  
Same as before, Mama.  
  
That's too damn much, she'd scream and I'd have to make somethin' up real quick, sorry Mama someone's at the door or sorry Mama I left something on the stove and it's burnin'. There was really only so much shit I could listen to.  
  
Cause damned if she wasn't right. I'd get off the phone and go sit down and she just made me so mad all I could do was cry because she was tellin' the truth about Maxie and no matter how much I yelled and hollered and told her that she was wrong and Maxie'd be back any day now, every day I believed that less and less.  
  
One day Maxie's C.O. died. Just shot right out of the sky, Maxie told me. And here's the killer. He was on his way home to his wife.  
  
But Maxie kept on writing me same as before. Don't you worry, baby. I'll be home any day now. Any day now, he said. I betcha that's what his C.O. told his wife. Boy, I thought I was scared before... but now I felt like writing back and asking if he was crazy. I didn't know nothin' about the war. All I knew was that one of THEM killed one of US, and Maxie's one of US.  
  
Oh, sure, I always kinda worried that he'd die. I'd have to be a complete moron not to worry. I worried constantly. But now somethin' was different. Maxie's letters stayed the same, and that was probably the worst part of all. He still wanted to come home to me, but now I just felt sick at the thought. He might get his section 8, or whatever the hell he was lookin' for. He might get sent home... and then he might die before he even made it out of Korea.  
  
Mama found out about his C.O. somehow. And if you think that helped, you're nuts.  
  
They're killin' our boys every day, she screamed into the phone. Every day. They call this a police action but it's a war. Our boys are gettin' killed and we're supposed to sit back and listen to it. This war's for nothin'. Nothin! My poor baby, you must be worried half to death. Think of what'll happen if he dies. He didn't make no money! He won't be able to leave you nothin.  
  
He ain't gonna die. I yelled. He's coming back. I screamed.  
  
I screamed into a dead phone. I guess I musta yanked the cord out of the wall or somethin. That was fine with me, oh, believe me, it was fine. No phone meant no bad news.  
  
I know you always hear about things makin' your head spin. I read lots of magazines, y'know, and every one of those dumb romance stories talks about how he made her head spin, or the booze made his head spin. I always thought that was funny as hell. Your head can't spin.  
  
But my head was spinning. I couldn't even see the ground. The way I was walkin', the way I was stumblin', the way I fell on the floor and cried, I musta looked drunk.  
  
And god time was goin' slow. I just laid there on the floor, squeezin' handfuls of our shitty brown carpet, cryin' and sobbin' and carryin' on like Gena's kid Betty liked to do. Betty started kindergarten a year late because she started screamin' in the middle of the classroom and pissed on the teacher's dress. They sent her home and never asked where she was for the whole rest of the year. It just never came up.  
  
Maxie wasn't dead, I kept tellin' myself. He wasn't dead, he was fine, he'd be home soon and it'll all be fine.  
  
But I knew that if I was wrong, if he was dead, or if he wasn't comin' home, it wouldn't all be fine. I knew that I hadn't even left the goddamn house in 4 days and it rained the night before and I didn't even bother bringin' the wash in, and I'd gone to bed in the same dress I'd been wearing since Wednesday. Who knew how long since I'd had a bath.  
  
I knew that I spent so goddamn much time wondering how Maxie was that I didn't even care how I was. Mama did, and that sell-out Frannie said she did, but I didn't.  
  
Maxie this, Maxie that. It'd been a year and he wasn't home. If he'd lied and told me he wasn't coming home and he changed his mind and loved the army, I'd'a had more respect for him. Here he was, goofing around and making friends and having fun, and all the while people were shooting at him. And in all those letters, what did he say about me?  
  
I miss your beautiful face. Your beautiful hair. I can't wait to hold you again. It'll be a week at least.  
  
Did he ever think to ask me how I was? How things were going? Things were shit in Korea, sure, but they were shit here, too. And here, all I was was Mrs. Maxie Klinger, you know, that poor boy who got sent to Korea. They say he's wearing a dress now.  
  
I'd'a let myself go all to pot if I thought he'd be home in a week like he said. Let him come home to the girl he left behind, let him see how I looked, let him take care of me. I'd'a let him shave my legs if he asked to.  
  
But instead, that very same day, I went into the bedroom. Pulled out my pink suitcase. Put my favorite dresses inside. Wrote a note for the landlord, tellin' him where to find me and that I'd be gone for awhile.  
  
Went next door and called a cab.  
  
I asked the driver to take me home to Mama. She wasn't surprised. She said I'd just reached the last straw.  
  
No, Mama. I ain't leavin' him. I just couldn't stand to sit in that house no more, I said.  
  
Mama took me out that night and I got my hair cut and my nails done. I got home and I took a bubble bath and looked at myself in the mirror.  
  
I grew up in that house so I knew the mirror, knew what light made me look good, knew what angle to point at boys so my nose didn't look huge and the scar from falling off the fence didn't show so much.  
  
Boy, I looked bad. I didn't mean for the hairdresser to make me look like a boy. Really, I didn't, but my hair was so short in the back I couldn't even feel it on the back of my neck. I'd always loved my hair and somehow Mama talked me into cutting it all off.  
  
Here I was, back home again. Maxie was as good as dead to me now. For all I cared now, I coulda been sixteen again.  
  
Maybe my hair wasn't so bad.  
  
You look cute, he said.  
  
And I went outside to throw up.  
  
Mama came running after me to see what was wrong. Why I'd just run away like that, middle of the sausage maker's shop. Why LaVerne, baby, you seen how they grind up the meat a thousand times if you ever seen it once, and the smell, you always said you liked how it smelled, she said.  
  
She put her hand on my back and I tried to wipe my mouth with my hand.  
  
Oh, it ain't Morty, is it? Mama asked. She was laughing. Well he's been asking about you. Every time I come he asks how you are. Shy as a kitten when he talks about you.  
  
It ain't nothin, I said. I musta caught somethin. You go on back in and get the meat and I'll wait here.  
  
Out in the alley next to the garbage can? Mama yelled. You come on out to the front of the store. Let him see you're alright.  
  
Boy, if ever I wasn't alright, it was right then. And I coulda cared less whether or not he thought I was alright. I bent over and kinda dabbed at my mouth with the inside of my skirt where no one could see and I thought about trying not to cry. I really didn't want to cry right then, I really didn't.  
  
It's just that no one had called me cute in years.  
  
I guess I shoulda known, you know what I mean? I shoulda known.  
  
Going back inside was rough. I kept my eyes down the whole time and I heard him laughing at me.  
  
What's the matter with you, sweetie, he asked.  
  
I just come down with somethin', I mumbled. It's probably your crummy sausage makin' me sick.  
  
Mama didn't like that one bit, she whacked me on the arm and started yelling at me in Italian. Boy, I felt like everyone except me had gone crazy all of a sudden.  
  
Morty was laughing at me even harder. Mama was apologizing all over the place and saying I hadn't been well and she started rippin' on old Maxie, sayin' it was all his fault and she coulda just killed him for leaving me all alone, and look what he'd done to me and didn't I just look horrible.  
  
Oh yeah, old Morty said. That Klinger kid. We went to school together.  
  
Well, SURE they went to school together. We all did. All of us. Oh, me and Morty went way back, don't kid yourself. He was a brute if ever there was one.  
  
I mean, none of us kids were real refined. All of us had funny last names, and we didn't look like the blonde girl and boy in the readers, and we all grew up fightin'. I told you about Frannie, and well, she was the exception I guess. She couldn't even throw a rock. But me, and Maxie and his buddy Gus and my sisters and all of us... we were hooligans of the highest order. Really, we were.  
  
And we ran like hell from Morty.  
  
He grew up to be a sausage maker because it was either that or prison, and I had my doubts that he wasn't SUPPOSED to be in prison right then.  
  
So then I walked into his goddamn sausage shop, and he said hello, real nice to see you, you look cute today.  
  
He didn't call me Mrs. Klinger, either.  
  
What the hell was I supposed to do?  
  
Mama was still rippin' on Maxie. If I'd'a had it to do over again I'd'a chased him out of the house with a broom the first time I ever saw him, she was sayin'. I'd'a never let him anywhere near any of my girls except maybe Gloria and even Gloria deserves better, although not much. He's over there in Korea wearin' a dress now, that bum is.  
  
Morty thought that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. He laughed so loud and so hard that I could see the windowpane shaking.  
  
A dress! Morty shouted. I always knew that guy was funny. Always knew it, he announced.  
  
And that's not the half of it, Mama said. Boy, was she putting on a show. Everyone in the shop was turned around lookin' at her.  
  
Wait'll you hear this, Mama said. He spends every penny he gets on more womens' clothes. He never sends my baby a penny unless she nags him. She'd'a starved to death if she hadn't'a moved back home.  
  
Mama, shut up, I said. Boy, was I gettin' fed up.  
  
Well boy, LaVerne! You're practically single again, ain'tcha, Morty roared.  
  
I sure ain't, I said. We're just as married as we ever was.  
  
That ain't sayin' much, Mama shouted, putting her hand on my shoulder and the whole bit. Everyone in the whole shop was laughing. I don't think half of them even knew what we were talking about but they sure laughed anyway.  
  
I just couldn't believe it. I really couldn't. You're a little girl, you grow up in a Catholic family and when you get dragged to church you sit there for hours and listen to how you better be loyal to your parents and don't raise your voice to your husband. Sure, you knew just from looking around the church that no one really paid any mind to that stuff; you looked around and two rows up was that 16 year old girl who was knocked up by some 40 year old and they had to get married but she was still in high school, and dating a football player to boot. And you listened to the neighbors and hell, even your own parents, and if I had a nickel for every time Mama and Papa came within an inch of going to blows, boy, I'd be able to buy some new goddamn underwear, wouldn't I?  
  
But even with all that shit, even knowing that no one really gave a damn who you went home with or what you said to your husband, the last thing in the world I would have expected was standing there in the sausage shop listening to complete strangers and my own mother all but ordering me to be a disloyal wife.  
  
Now, you gotta believe me when I say that I woulda stayed true to Maxie forever. I mean, unless he wrote me and said he'd met some Korean floozy. But short of that, I'd have done anything. I loved the sonofabitch. I tried to defend him, and all I got was a load of grief.  
  
Morty was kinda leering at me all the while, looking at me like I was a piece of meat.  
  
And yeah, you wanna know something? It made me feel good. It made me feel like a movie star. A MARRIED movie star. All the men love her but she's off-limits. I was one of those chicks in the picture show who got to laugh and walk away and the guys all fall down like dominos as they stare at her ass.  
  
Mama was done. She took her goddamn sausages, and wasn't she apologetic and bashful. Sorry for causing such a ruckus, she was saying. I damn near hated her. She left me there all by myself, people staring at me. Oh, that poor girl. Oh, what a jerk she's married to.  
  
You gotta believe me when I say that it wasn't my idea. Not to start with. I was madder than hell that she had to make such a jackass out of herself and me.  
  
Morty was still looking at me, and when I looked at him he looked as big a jerk as ever. Mama embarrassed me in front of him, that was all that happened, but I didn't need to be embarrassed because it wasn't my fault she decided to shoot her mouth off about shit she didn't understand.  
  
So you gonna buy something, LaVerne? Morty asked. Or are you just gonna stand there?  
  
It's a free goddamn country, isn't it? I said back. I'll stand here as long as I want to.  
  
I didn't really want to stand there, but it was important now that I made it clear that I was my own goddamn person and he couldn't push me around, no matter how many pounds he could benchpress.  
  
You sure do look good today. He said again.  
  
Just out of nowhere. And boy, did that piss me off.  
  
You got a lot of nerve, you know that? You and my mama both got a hell of a lot of nerve. You must both think I'm pretty dumb. I yelled.  
  
You wanna quit yelling like that? Morty yelled. Christ, I say you look pretty and you bite my goddamn head off.  
  
You both think I'm some kind of idiot! I screamed louder. I'll have you know that Maxie'll be home any damn day now, and soon as he gets word on what you tried to do to me--  
  
Oh, I don't remember what all I said. All I know is I was pissed as I could ever remember being. Morty was getting real nervous, the old lady in line behind me was starting to cough real loud. But I wasn't backing down.  
  
I must have yelled for a good five minutes. Maxie's coming home and he's over in Korea in the goddamn army and that's a whole lot more than I could say for you, Morty, you're a good-for-nothing brute and you can keep your goddamn eyes where they belong from now on. I'm a married woman.  
  
I don't know when he decided to throw me out.  
  
All I remember was he was behind the counter one minute and the next he wasn't, and he was picking me up off the floor like he was some kind of caveman, and he lugged me out the door and out into the goddamn alley, and all the time my heart was racing and I was positive I'd finally gone and done it and he was going to kill me. Kill me out in the alley where no one could see. Oh, the guy was crazy, I knew it. When we were kids it was little stuff like chucking rocks at us when we were on our rusty old bikes, but this time he was going to just up and kill me. He had to have had a knife somewhere and he was going to kill me, and Maxie was a million miles away and Mama was in another store and no one could save me.  
  
Now LaVerne, listen... he was saying, and boy, he was calm. LaVerne, listen. I know you and Maxie been together for a long time. But you gotta think, LaVerne. Where is he? Where is he when you get lonesome, huh?  
  
I don't get lonesome, I said.  
  
He put me down.  
  
Sure you get lonesome.  
  
What do I care? I asked.  
  
All I'm sayin'... all I'm sayin' is that...  
  
He didn't have a clue what he was sayin'.  
  
You're sayin' that since we're both here and real lonesome, why don't we keep each other company, or some other bullshit, I finished for him.  
  
He looked real relieved.  
  
LaVerne, I make twenty dollars a day, he said.  
  
Oh, I didn't say anything. But twenty dollars a day... Maxie was lucky to pull in six a week, or so he said.  
  
Yeah, and if that ain't a goddamn crime, I said angrily.  
  
You ever wonder what it'd be like to have whatever you want? He asked.  
  
Sure, I said. Who hasn't.  
  
Well you know what they say, LaVerne. How money makes the world go round. Think of all the things you don't have. Think of all the things you want.  
  
You don't know what I want, I told him. And it's none of your business anyhow. Get the hell out of my way.  
  
So, I did it. I walked down the street, and I was proud as hell. I'd done it, I'd been a faithful wife. Oh, if Maxie could see me, he'd be so proud. He'd be so damn proud.  
  
I met up with Mama, and right off I could tell she knew something had happened. I just smiled and we finished shopping.  
  
When we got home, there was a strange car in the driveway. I didn't know who it was, but it was a damn nice car, so I automatically thought it was no one we knew.  
  
We got inside and there on the couch was my brother. Not Pudgy, but Steve.  
  
He had some broad with him, some real busty girl with brown hair wearing a sweater, even though it had to be 80 degrees out. Oh, the sweater did wonders for her figure, it really did.  
  
She had her hand in Steve's lap and the whole bit and they were lounging on the couch like they owned the place. Mama dragged Steve off the couch while she fussed over him and made a big deal about his new haircut and the fancy car out in the yard.  
  
Oh, that's my car, the broad said from the couch.  
  
And who are you, I asked.  
  
Stephanie Valentino, she said.  
  
As if I knew who Stephanie Valentino was.  
  
Mama was already ahead of me, asking if Steve and his lovely young ladyfriend were going to stay for supper. Steve thought it over for a minute and looked at Stephanie for advice.  
  
Of course we're staying for supper, Stephanie told Mama. I didn't drive all the way up here from Steubenville just to go back home without supper.  
  
But who ARE you? I asked.  
  
She didn't answer me, and it wasn't until Mama had put supper on the table and we'd said Grace and the whole bit that Stephanie finally opened up.  
  
She met Steve at their work, she said. They both worked in a pencil factory in Steubenville, and if Stephanie was to be believed, it was the most romantic place in the whole state of Ohio. That was where they met, that was where they saw each other every day and that was where he finally went to propose to her except that he accidentally kneeled down on a pencil. The pencil cracked in two and he had to go to the hospital to get the pieces taken out of his leg.  
  
You were in the hospital, Mama screamed, and you didn't tell me.  
  
I took a bite.  
  
No, no, Mama. It was fine. In and out, Steve told her. Two hours. Less than two hours, wasn't it, Stephanie?  
  
I looked at him.  
  
He was gonna PROPOSE to me, Stephanie reminded us. I waited with him while the doctor took the pencil out of his leg and I took care of him after. Now when they talk about us at work it's like our names are all one word. SteveStephanie.  
  
Oh, Mama got the biggest kick out of that. I just kept eating.  
  
When we were done, I tried to go to bed. I told Mama I was still feeling sick from when I threw up outside the sausage shop, but she took one look at me and stuck me on the couch with a thermometer in my mouth. SteveStephanie crowded beside me and Stephanie finally seemed to notice that I was there and started asking me questions.  
  
How old are ya, LaVerne?  
  
I held up 2 fingers, then 3.  
  
Yeah? You gotta boyfriend?  
  
Mmmmunnmd, I told her.  
  
Yeah?  
  
Mmmm.  
  
Steve interrupted us, and he asked me how Maxie was.  
  
What could I say, except Mmmmummfmummdf.  
  
Of course, Mama came back the second she heard Maxie's name, and she was only too happy to explain to SteveStephanie how come I was there, at home, instead of in my apartment waiting for Maxie to come home from the war.  
  
Yeah, Steve asked. Hey, that's a real shame. That's a darn shame.  
  
Thank god they didn't call YOU to Korea, baby, said Stephanie, cuddling up to him and all that bullshit.  
  
Mama sure agreed with that one. She'd had three sons go to war and thank god Steve wasn't one of them.  
  
Steve was always too damn bright for his own good, way smarter than any of us, so it probably was a good thing he didn't get sent to the war. He'd have known too damn much, and it would have really screwed him up. That was just a fact.  
  
He's wearing a DRESS, Stephanie asked me, as if she hadn't really heard it right the first time.  
  
Mmmmuh, mup mfomoh mummphum--  
  
LaVerne, take the thermometer out of your mouth before you talk, Mama told me.  
  
I did.  
  
He's only doing it so he can-- I started.  
  
What was your temperature, Mama asked.  
  
I can't read these damn things, I told her.  
  
You can't read a simple thermometer, Mama screamed. How did you get to be 23 years old and you can't read a thermometer?  
  
I don't know, I just never could. Listen, the only reason Maxie's wearing a dress is--  
  
Can't you see the red line, Mama yelled. Look for the red line.  
  
I don't care about the red line, just listen to me once. The only reason Maxie's wearing a goddamn dress is--  
  
I got cut off again. But this time, everyone in the room was quiet. They didn't say a word to interrupt me.  
  
It just suddenly occurred to me that I couldn't finish my sentence.  
  
Because I didn't know why. Oh, I knew why. I knew what he said, that he loved me so much and he missed me so much that he couldn't bear to be away from me, and he'd do anything, no matter how humiliating it was to him, to get back home to me. That's what he told me.  
  
But what about me, huh? What about me? What about how humiliating it was to ME?  
  
Sure, it doesn't REALLY affect me. I ain't Maxie. Everyone felt BAD for me, everyone wanted to HELP me. Everyone LIKED me.  
  
But every time they tried to help me, every time they laughed at Maxie and made him sound like the worst husband ever and poor LaVerne having to put up with him and he's probably a queer anyhow... oh, I just... I felt almost like it WAS me they were laughing at.  
  
It was so unfair. It was so damn unfair. I didn't care about the money anymore. I didn't care about money or clothes or the rent anymore.  
  
All I cared about was the fact that I was back here, sticking up for the bastard even when I didn't have a damn clue what he was up to, feeling EMBARRASSED for him, feeling lonesome for him, feeling all kinds of shit and there was nothing I could do about it, and I didn't even have the goddamn luxury of my own mother telling me what a great guy he was and to just hold on, he'd be home soon.  
  
So I guess, when I sat there that night, holding a thermometer in one hand and holding the other hand out, reaching out, almost like I was hoping the goddamn answer to why I kept lying to myself would fall into my hand, that's kinda when it all started.  
  
I guess that's kinda when I first started, y'know, in my mind, being unfaithful to Maxie.  
Oh, but my body stayed faithful another... another six months, at least.  
  
Those six months, I spent the first month or so running out to that damn duplex every day, checking the mailbox and leaving. I guess you could say I was kinda desperate at first. Those thoughts I was having, the ones that came to me while I was in the bathtub, of just leaving, just saying the hell with the whole lot, saying Maxie could just go to hell and I was heading for Hollywood or somewhere... they were bad thoughts, to me. They scared me. So when he wrote to me, I got real scared, almost worried that he KNEW, just somehow, that I'd been having those thoughts. I was just terrified. He'd yell at me, I knew. Or at least write some real horrible things in his last letter to me.  
  
It took me almost 2 days to get up the nerve to open his letter, and when I did, it was barely a page. Something about bugging out. Then, I started feeling even worse. Oh, I was so scared for him. He was talking about the North Koreans, and the Chinese and it was all just a jumble. I'd never felt worse in my life.  
  
Oh, god, it was true. He was gonna die, and here my last thoughts of him were so horrible. Oh, I was going to hell. I just knew it.  
And then, one day, my mailbox key didn't fit.  
  
Went to try my door key, that didn't fit either.  
  
I went into the other half of the duplex, got the point across to the Urbanskis that I needed the telephone. I telephoned the landlord, wondering if I'd just lost my mind, grabbed the wrong keys... they ran my car, but maybe they were the wrong keys, anyhow. Maybe...  
  
Landlord wouldn't tell me jack over the phone, and I finally hung up on him and told him to get his ass over there. Slammed the phone down and practically gave old Mr. Urbanski a heart attack. Apologized to him and went and sat on the stairs.  
  
Landlord didn't come.  
  
After two hours, I said the hell with it and got the crowbar from my car. It took a coupla swings and I pulled a muscle in my shoulder but I got the mailbox open.  
  
So there I was, kneeling on the ground in a pile of letters, going through them, and Mr. Urbanski was yelling out the window at me and Mrs. Urbanski was saying Police, I call police, but she wouldn't have known how to call the goddamn police if they were standing across the street.  
  
And there was another letter.  
  
From Maxie.  
  
Not the army. Not his C.O. Maxie.  
  
Maxie was alive.  
  
Oh, when the landlord came, I was a mess. I was crying and the door to the mailbox was hanging by its hinges and I was just sitting there with my knees up, didn't even care if he could see my underwear.  
  
Mrs. Klinger, he said to me. Real cautious. I guess he thought I was hysterical, liable to jump up and strangle him or pull out a pistol.  
  
Where ya been?, I asked. I  
  
Now, Mrs. Klinger, you can't be here like this, he said, you haven't paid rent on this unit in a month. I've attempted to contact you but you refused to respond.  
That was bullshit. Oh, it sure was. He called me ONCE at Mama's, and that was to ask me how I was feeling. If he'd'a wanted me out, and he'd'a TOLD me he wanted me out, then I'd'a got out. He didn't tell me shit.  
  
Mrs. Klinger, he said, I can't allow you to come here any time you please, collect your mail and leave without giving me any information as to what you plan to do, any rent--  
  
I don't know what I plan to do, I told him. Look, my husband's just written, he's... christ, I don't even know what it says--  
  
Mrs. Klinger, please listen to me. He said, real patient. I will gladly hold your apartment for as long as you want if you're willing to pay for it. Call it a summer home, I don't give a damn... but as it is right now, you owe me $300 for last month and if you want to keep the unit past this coming Tuesday... now, I'm being real nice about this, Mrs. Klinger. If you want to get out and cut your losses, do it by next Tuesday and you'll only owe the three hundred. I won't charge you for this month. But either way, this coming, getting the mail and going is not going to continue. You'll owe six hundred.  
  
I ain't got $600. I ain't got $300! I yelled.  
  
And I regret that, really, Mrs. Klinger. But my hands are tied, the Urbanskis have been complaining about the smell, it's possible your icebox...  
  
So you changed my goddamn locks, I screamed. I can't get in there and DO anything about my goddamn icebox!  
  
Mrs. Klinger, I regret that I had to do that, but if you decide to forfeit your apartment, I can't afford to have you entering the premises illegally. Now, I'll be happy to leave the key with Mrs. Urbanski if you should decide to move out, and if you'd like to continue paying rent on the unit of course you'll be given your own key--  
  
You're not listening to me! This is my goddamn apartment... I can't get six hundred dollars... I said.  
  
Then you're more than welcome to pack your belongings and relocate. He said. And you're damn lucky I ain't calling the police about that mailbox. That'll be another $100. Put another hundred on that. $400 or $700, your choice, Mrs. Klinger.  
  
Just like that.  
  
He put the mailbox door back in place and pounded on it with his fist, watched it fall back down and walked away.  
  
Look, I said after him. I got up off the floor, wiping my eyes. I know... I know what you're saying, but Ma-my husband... he won't know where to reach me. And I got... oh, god, we got that furniture. That couch and... and table and the bed, and how am I gonna hire a mover if I gotta give all my money to you? And... and I ain't even GOT that kind of money to begin with, and... and I sure ain't got enough for both of you, and... how are we gonna do this, huh?  
  
Mrs. Klinger, I can't help you. I honestly can't. You've stretched me as far as I'm willing to go. You live with your mother and father, they're willing to put you up, wouldn't they be willing to help you move? Loan you money?  
  
Well, I...  
  
Mrs. Urbanski was suddenly standing beside me, screaming at the landlord.  
  
I call police, yes? Call police? Bad, crazy woman have break box! She yelled.  
  
No, Mrs. Urbanski. No, no call police, he said. It's all okay. It's all okay.  
  
He looked at me when he said that. Like he was telling ME.  
  
Boy, he had some nerve! Here he was, throwing me out... and he WAS throwing me out, because short of prostitution I didn't have $700 and I didn't have any way to GET $700... and he had the nerve to tell me everything was gonna be okay.  
  
Oh, you BET I got out of there. I went home and told Mama and she got right on the telephone to all my brothers, even Pudgy, who said he'd come lug boxes one-handed so long as I was getting away from Maxie.  
  
Yep. That's what they said. It seemed to my family that being evicted from our duplex was pretty much the end of me and Maxie, and I was washing my hands of the whole marriage and I was to be congratulated for it.  
  
Our furniture was up for grabs. It was my decision, I couldn't afford to rent storage space for the damn couch and bed and everything and I just said the hell with it. When Maxie got back we'd buy new stuff. My brother Lenny gave me $15 for the couch, I couldn't get "no" through his head. I guess I didn't try real hard. Fifteen bucks was fifteen bucks.  
  
SteveStephanie were there too, and Stephanie was a big help, let me assure you. She sat in the way of the door when people were trying to get through, she shut the window on her finger and refused to work the rest of the day, and she went and took a nap on our bed because she said it was too hot and she was faint. She was wearing a sweater.  
  
When she came out of the bedroom, she started complaining about my bedsprings sticking her.  
  
Yeah? I said. That's too bad. I was thinking of giving that bed to you and Steve, I mean, it is a queen size... but boy, I didn't know that. That's just awful.  
  
Oh, boy, Stephanie sure liked that one. Her eyes lit up and I guess she didn't know it was a queen size bed, because she was more than happy to forget all about the springs sticking her and she called me her sister and all that garbage. Perfectly happy to take my goddamn bed that I shared with Maxie the whole time we lived there.  
  
That night, we weren't done yet, but my brothers felt like getting together and getting drunk anyhow. And they DID.  
  
Oh, I mighta had a few, too. I guess I don't really remember, which means most likely I did. Anyway, I don't really know how it happened, but a little bit after midnight, the cops still hadn't come yet and that was pretty good, considering our track record.  
  
I was trying to decide whether to try and go to bed or what, when someone came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders.  
  
I turned around and I was face to face with Morty.  
  
Oh, he was grinning like a fool.  
  
Now, I'll never know who invited him. I don't know how he knew, but he did. I don't know how word could spread that fast about something that wasn't even true, not really... but he was grinning and acting like he'd just won the lottery and he put his hands on my shoulders again and asked me to dance.  
  
There ain't no music and there ain't nothin to dance about, I told him.  
  
He kept right on grinning.  
  
LaVerne, he said. You ain't married to that guy anymore! You're free, and you're gonna marry me.  
  
The hell I am, I told him. Me and Maxie are still married. He ain't goin' anywhere.  
  
Then how come you moved out, he asked me.  
  
They threw me out, I yelled. It woulda been $700 and I didn't have it.  
  
Aww, LaVerne, he said. That's a damn shame. You coulda came to me, I'd'a gave you some money.  
  
Ah, you're full of shit, I told him.  
  
Like hell I am, he shouted. You dumb bitch! You don't know how good you could have it!  
  
I didn't say anything.  
  
And he left. Just left, just like that.  
  
Stephanie was behind me, and she was grinning.  
  
LaVerne, she said, Steve just proposed to me. For real.  
  
I looked behind her, and saw Steve, kinda standing up against the wall, staring at the ceiling, looking kinda like he was gonna pass out.  
  
She was damn happy, though, so I sucked it up and gave her a big sisterly hug the way I hugged my sister Gena when she told us she was pregnant with Betty, and I hoped that it'd turn out better for SteveStephanie than it did for Gena and whatever his name was.  
  
Stephanie was glowing, and I didn't even think it was all from being too hot. Although I guess a lot of it was.  
  
SteveStephanie became one on a beautiful July afternoon. She wore long sleeves and sweated like a pig. He shook hands with everybody and acted the perfect gentleman.  
  
No one said to me that it was the perfect wedding, because it wasn't. Gena had to bring Betty and the damn kid threw up in the middle of the ceremony. My grandfather on Mama's side forgot where he was halfway through the cake-cutting and started swearing in Italian, accusing Stephanie of insulting the Madonna by wearing pearls.  
  
It wasn't perfect, but boy, I fumed. All around me everyone talked about other weddings because they couldn't think of anything to say about the one they were at, but no one had a word to say about my wedding. I musta talked to every girl in that damn place at some point and most of them didn't even know I WAS married.  
  
Yeah, cause my wedding wasn't beautiful, or perfect, or anything at all.  
  
Oh, when it was happening, I forced myself to feel so happy I could scream. A few shots here and there of vodka helped, but it was like a dream, or somethin. I heard his voice and I wanted to cry, but not the way most brides cry. I musta sounded happy, even when we got cut off, and I called him "Pumpkin", and I heard his friends and his CO cheering for us... but could I kiss him? Look into his eyes? Hell no.  
  
Yeah, SteveStephanie's reception was in a restaurant some relative of Stephanie's worked at, and to walk in you'd swear every Italian in the whole state of Ohio was standing there in heels and suits, sweating and drinking and eating and yelling and waiting for a chair to open up.  
  
We had the whole main floor of the restaurant, and the basement where the men went to smoke and drink.  
  
Oh, yeah. I had a few, myself. It probably ain't ladylike to say but somewhere along the line I really became a goddamn boozehound. Mama was always a firm believer in the theory that a glass of wine or six a day helps keep you healthy and beautiful and helps you to live forever, so it wasn't like I did all my drinkin' in secret or nothin... but fact remains that I did drink way too much that night.  
  
I can admit that. I'm a big girl, I mean... I know that.  
  
Oh, it was so silly... to start with, I didn't even remember...  
  
Well, what I mean is...  
  
Boy, it's funny. The way I was able to write everything up to that night down, no problem... oh, come on... I mean... you knew from the first sentence that I wasn't true to him.  
  
I guess it's just... a little harder for me to explain why than it is to just say it.  
  
The words I Am An Unfaithful Wife aren't about me. I don't have to believe it.  
  
But now I'm about to tell you that it is about me, and I did do it, and I do have to believe it.  
  
First, you oughta know that it hurt. I'd all but closed up, y'know what I mean.  
  
My head was ringing. I tried to look him in the eyes, but I couldn't see them. He laughed at me, he said I was so drunk if he took me and married me in the night I'd forget all about Maxie by morning.  
  
I was standing at the top of the stairs and I started laughing. Forget about him, I'd love to, I yelled to him. Forget all about him, as long as you gimme a wedding people'll remember. Can ya do that, Morty? Gimme a wedding where I'm the only one wearing a goddamn dress, gimme a wedding where I can look at ya, where I can see ya and you ain't in Korea? Gimme a wedding that people'll talk about and I won't have to be all alone anymore?  
  
Hey, what about Mr. Maxie Klinger, he yelled back to me over the hubbub.  
  
I laughed and stumbled down a couple more stairs. My heel betrayed me and I landed on my ass halfway down the stairs, giggling.  
  
Maxie Klinger's in Korea, Morty. I'm awful lonesome for him, I yelled.  
  
Yeah? He said.  
  
Don't forget, I'm only 23. I'm practically a kid, I said.  
  
Ya look like a woman to me, he said.  
  
Oh, but that ain't what I'm sayin'. I'm sayin' I'm still young, and dumb enough that I give my heart away. I gave it to Maxie and look at me. Look at me, Morty.  
  
I am, he said. Oh, I am lookin' at ya.  
  
He started coming up the stairs.  
  
Look at me for real, I said. Don't look at my goddamn boobs, Morty. Look at my face. I'm sad, Morty. Sad and lonesome. I ain't never been so sad and lonesome in my whole life as I am right now. Look at my goddamn brother and Stephanie. How come they're so happy, Morty? How come they get to be so happy?  
  
Whatcha talkin' about, he asked.  
  
Look at 'em, goddammit! I screamed. What the hell did they do to deserve such a great wedding and so much goddamn happiness they could throw up?  
  
I don't know, he said. Is that who got married, your brother?  
  
Fucker, I said. Son of a bitch. I hate him!, I yelled.  
  
You hate your brother?, Morty asked.  
  
MAXIE!, I screamed. I HATE him. Oh, god, I HATE him! I hate him for making me so goddamn miserable! Leaving me here all by myself and broke, the lying son of a bitch! He said a month.. he said he'd be back in a month.  
  
He didn't say a word.  
  
He pulled me up by the hand and took me out to his car. I was crying, I was screaming, cursing Maxie, cursing him and hating him and wishing he was there so I could tell him just how I felt.  
  
And he took me.  
  
I was drunk... I didn't exactly say no.  
  
But I sure as hell didn't say yes.  
  
He threw me in the backseat, whispering and muttering and he rolled down my stockings and my panties and I didn't say anything, not a yes, not a no, not a damn word, but I cried the whole time because I was drunk.  
  
When I fell asleep in the back of his car and he drove me to his apartment, I opened my eyes for just a split second at the stoplight and I saw Maxie, standing on the corner, looking at me with tears in his eyes.  
  
Oh, baby... oh, Maxie... I whispered. Why didn't you come? Why didn't you come?  
  
It hurt like hell down there and as I closed my eyes again I imagined that it had gone different.  
  
Morty dragged me out to his car, but I was sober. He tried to take me out of jealousy, out of anger. I fought him like a tiger but he wrestled me into the backseat anyhow.  
  
But just as he was about to do his horrible business, there was Maxie.  
  
Take your hands off her, Morty, he said in that squawky voice that I used to tease him about... and Morty left me there, stood up and he was 100 feet tall, but just like David and Goliath, Maxie... oh, my darling, little Maxie, he struck him down with a mighty blow, came over to the car and stuck his head in.  
  
Oh, Maxie, I said. Maxie, I knew you'd come. I knew you would.  
  
Come on, LaVerne, he'd say, and he'd smile.  
  
That was the last time. The last time I ever saw his goddamn smile, and it was in my head.  
  
The last time I ever whispered his name in the backseat of a car, in the dark of the goddamn night.  
  
He coulda saved me.  
  
So, you know the rest, I'm sure you heard it from Maxie.  
  
I'm sure he said it just like it went, too. Maxie was always a real honest guy.  
  
We got married, me and Morty.  
  
He bought me whatever I wanted. I had a television set. I had a radio, and all kinds of new dresses. He didn't hit me much, and I hit him back just as many times.  
  
I kept on drinking.  
  
They say Maxie brought some Korean girl home. Oh, I don't know it for truth... could be it's all just a lie. Could be Mama wonders if I shouldn't have stayed with old Maxie, wonders if he would have been true forever.  
  
Wonder if I wouldn't have given her grandchildren.  
  
Wonder.  
  
FIN  
  
October 6, 2004 2:12 am 


End file.
